Cracked Mirrors
by morticya
Summary: When Beetlejuice is kicked out of his home town in the Neitherworld he's forced to find a new place to cause mayhem. Things take a turn when he wanders into a bar one night where another ghost is singing on stage. Beetlejuice x OC
1. Chapter 1

Note: This story takes place 26 years after the events of the movie, centered largely in the universe of the Neitherworld but in a place called Rook City. I've combined aspects of BJ from the movie, animated show and Universal show. Beetlejuice x OC

Beetlejuice and all references to the Beetlejuice universe belong to Tim Burton. Original characters, story and universe belong to me.

The bar goers were lively this Friday night, swarming into one of Rook City's scuzziest joints, _La_ _Esqueleto Catrina _to kick off the weekend with drinks and music. Death imitated life it would seem and despite being dead these ghouls, skeletons and spooks couldn't wait to relax and unwind. The bar wasn't anything fancy (despite the owner's personal beliefs) and didn't attract the highest-paying patrons. The walls were painted a stark black with checkered black and white tiles on the floor cracking and peeling in places. A long wooden bar at the back of the room, painted grey was manned by the owner, Stu, a gruff looking corpse who had evidently been stabbed in the neck before dying. His dull red hair was forever thinning, leaving a bald patch in the middle he sometimes hid with a paisley kerchief. Behind the bar were various bottles of booze lined up on shelves with a neon flamingo sign glowing eerily above. Round wooden tables and chairs were scattered around the bar and off to the left of the entrance was a makeshift stage made of wooden risers.

Somehow Stu had gathered enough cash to put in a decent sound system and even a lighting system above the stage. Nothing fancy, but enough to entertain the customers. He had to admit his business had been growing steadily ever since he had the _brilliant _idea just a few months ago to make his servers double as the entertainment for the bar. And it didn't hurt that his main attraction, a server with a surprisingly melodic voice, had eagerly agreed. She had her own ambitions anyway.

With the din of conversation, laughing and clinking glasses around her, Poppy hurried to take off her apron and uniform in a backroom behind the stage. In the dim light of the lamp on her vanity she could see how tussled her brown hair was. Clicking her tongue she quickly ran a brush through the thick mess, wincing every so often when a lock was tugged. She then pinned her hair on the left side of her head, sending the wavy tresses down her backside in a way that exposed the right side of her neck. Swiping some more mascara onto her lashes, adding some blush and some sticky red lip gloss Poppy determined her face was ready for the lights. Next she dashed over to a broken down drawer she and the other servers shared to store their numerous costumes. "For this song I'll need…this one!" Poppy muttered and pulled out a hot pink leather dress with lace sewn along the trim. She examined it with one raised brow, holding the dress in front of her – Stu really did have terrible taste but she couldn't complain. He bought the clothes and she had the chance to sing.

"Poppy! C'mon!" squeaked a corpse who had poked her head into the door. Poppy nodded at her fellow server and backup singer. "I'll be right there!" she promised and began to tug the silly dress on. It left little to the imagination (Stu insisted it brought in more customers and therefore money) and in all honesty, Poppy would never wear something this revealing in her everyday life. With a sigh she stood in front of the mirror of her vanity and examined herself. At 27 she was a thick-bodied corpse with an hourglass figure Stu insisted people would kill themselves for. There wasn't a thin bone in her body and frankly, Poppy cherished her body. But it was also a work of horror for across her skin were stitches telling a story of murder. All the way from her toes up to her neck and lips Poppy was stitched together. It was obvious her death had been at the hands of some kind of psychotic criminal – one she knew all too well. Her skin was a delicate shade of mint mirrored by the vivid green of her eyes. Shrugging her shoulders Poppy pulled on a pair of sky-high black stilettoes and gave her reflection a thumbs-up. "It's showtime."

Out on the stage the lights had been turned on and centered right where three backup dancers, all lovely corpses of various talents and tragedies were bopping in knee-length shimmery shaft dresses. A man sat in the corner on a stool, strumming a guitar masterfully while humming along to his tune. Poppy knew all eyes in the bar had been turned to the stage, waiting for her to take control of the mic like she did every night. Butterflies trembled in her tummy but with a deep breath she pulled back the curtain separating the stage from the backroom and grinned at the crowd before her. The ghouls began to clap, cheer and whistle as she strode confidently to the mic, winking at the guitar player in the corner. "Evenin' everybody," Poppy cooed into the mic with a silky tone. Some of the spectres in the crowd greeted her back playfully. She smiled and began to bop to the music drifting from the guitar. Behind her the women were humming loudly and began to clap along. "I'd like to welcome you all to _La_ _Esqueleto Catrina _on this fine night…hope the drinks are to your likin'," she grinned. "Tonight we're going to start off with something soulful, something smooth, something dirty," she added to which came a few whoops from the crowd. Poppy playfully put up her index finger to tsk the audience, earning some laughs in the process. As the tune picked up and the lights centered on her Poppy began to sing a song she had written herself back when Stu first brought up the idea of having the servers up on stage. It was a bar favourite, one she knew would warm up the crowd – although they seemed pretty loose already.

With the bartenders nodding or even singing along to the tune and the liquor pouring into glasses, Poppy spilled into the chorus with as much heart as she could muster. But out of the corner of her eye she spotted the front door open and a strange man she had never seen before entered. He wore quite the graphic suit, white with thick black stripes on the jacket and pants with a vibrant magenta-purple shirt beneath. His hair was wild to say the least and his white skin was etched with green mold. His eyes were dark and hungry but Poppy saw a glimmer of something she could not quite put her finger on. He straddled to the bar, bumping into another patron without apology and took an empty seat. Stu poured him a drink as he lit up a cigarette and glanced lazily over his shoulder to the stage. Poppy's attention had returned to sweetening up the crowd with flirty smiles and winks. She didn't notice as he kept his eyes on her, widened and suddenly alert. She also missed the smirk working its way onto his lips before he took a gulp of his drink.

Hi folks! This is my first chapter and as I haven't written any fanfic in a loooong time I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading! 3


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Hey guys! Thanks for reading this far. I'd love if you could please rate and review!

Beetlejuice and all references to the Beetlejuice universe belong to Tim Burton. Original characters, story and universe belong to me.

Poppy sighed wearily as she removed her latex dress and changed into her own, more comfortable clothing – a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a grey cable-knit sweater. She was more than tired and more than willing to get home and just collapse into her bed. The night had gone well, her performance raking in more tips than they usually made. Stu had been quite pleased with the entire band and had generously offered them a thumbs up while counting the cash in his office. The tables had been cleaned as well as the glasses and all that was left to do was for Stu to lock up the bar after he left. The rest of the band had dispersed, leaving Poppy to gather her things in the dressing room.

As she went to fetch her purse on the vanity a sudden thought occurred to her – that man in the strange suit. Who was he? Possibly just a passer-by who needed a drink on his way to wherever it was he was going. He certainly wasn't a regular – Poppy would've remembered a suit and hairstyle like that. She shrugged and left towards the stage, locking the dressing room door behind her. Bidding Stu a final "goodnight, see you tomorrow," she made her way outside into the crisp night. Rook City, even in its after-hours was alive and well with activity. The crooked, run-down buildings made of concrete and black bricks held characters of all sorts. On her short walk home, Poppy passed by several stores and restaurants all shut down for the night, an empty parking lot and apartment buildings squished together with green-tinted windows. She heard a cacophony of car horns, hooting owls and couples shouting or murmuring. Windows flickered with television lights airing late-night talk shows and shadowed figures phased through alleyways and up metal stairs, disappearing into the blackness. The streets were empty save for the few ghosts finding their way downtown and the occasional litter lining the road. Rook City wasn't exactly pleasant but it had its nice areas. Poppy did not live in one of them.

Reaching her four-storey apartment building, Poppy opened the front door and made her way upstairs. She lived on the top floor, offering her quite the lovely view of Rook City's docks. The light in the hallway was flickering badly, making her feel as if she was in a rave. When Poppy arrived at her door she could hear an excited panting and scratching on the other side. With a smirk and shake of her head she unlocked the door to meet a bouncy little pug, tail wagging and eye bugged out on the side of his head that wasn't missing flesh. The left side of his small brain was exposed as well as various spots along his body, but Poppy never thought that took away from his cuteness. "Heya Flapjack!" she cooed, picking up the pup and locking the door behind her. Flapjack yipped and covered her mint face with kisses.

An hour later found Poppy in her bed wearing an oversized t-shirt and socks, book in hand and Flapjack curled at her side. She checked her phone for the time, nodded to herself and earmarked the page, leaving it on her bedside table. Outside her bedroom window a strange shade of yellow cast by the Neitherworld moon filtered into her room and despite the late hour the noise had only settled slightly. Poppy pulled the covers up over her hip and relaxed against her pillow. She reached to turn off the lamp on her bedside table when her phone whistled a tune, notifying her of a text message. Poppy reached for the device, disturbing Flapjack's comfy position which earned her a grumble of annoyance. "What does Wendy want at this hour?" she asked to no one in particular after reading the name of one of her backup singers and friend.

_Hey Pops – don't forget, we're meeting at The Boneshaker tomorrow after work so bring something nice to wear. And heels! :)_

Poppy smirked. Wendy and the other singers had been trying to help her adjust to the Neitherworld after she arrived a year ago. It had been a rough transition but with her new-found friends the pain became easier to handle. While she insisted on staying home, they had other ideas.

_No worries, Wendy. Go to bed you kook._

_LOL just one more episode of Pimp My Coffin. BTW did you see that guy at the bar tonight?_

_Which one? Wait, the one with the suit?_

_YEA HIM. But I feel like I've seen him before, you know? Like his face is familiar. I dunno. Anyway he was looking at you ;) If he comes back I'm pushing you two in a closet LOLZ._

Poppy wrinkled her nose at the thought.

_Uh…how about no. He probably won't come back so don't give him another thought, ok? You know we get weirdos every once in a while. And Stu usually chases them off :P_

_Yea w/e. We're gonna find you a guy at Boneshaker anyway so it doesn't matter :PPP_

_GO TO BED WENDY._

Poppy sighed, a little more than annoyed. She set the alarm on her phone and settled down in her bed. Why oh why did her friends insist she find a date? Hadn't that gotten her into this whole…dead thing…in the first place?

As Poppy drifted off to sleep, the streets outside her building began to empty of the undead, save for one figure lingering in an alley down near the docks. A man leaned against the brick of the alley, hands in pocket and cigarette in his mouth as he watched one apartment building in particular. His mind was already at work devising schemes and plans. That singer had caught his attention. He was intrigued and that didn't happen too often. Juno had kicked him out of Central Neitherworld for good, but here in Rook City he was safe to do as he pleased. Beetlejuice sniggered and spat the cigarette out on the ground, snuffing it with the heel of his boot before heading off into the night.


End file.
